His Mind Games
by Hotnesspecter88
Summary: Ivan offers to send Prussia and Italia to a Russian Disciplinary camp to ease pressure on Germany. If only Ludwig knew of the motive behind it. Hardcore yaoi RussiaxGermany
1. A Bargain He'd Never refuse

The Ruski eyed the German man maliciously, sizing him up as if he was prey to be devoured. It was a casual summit, the countries chatting amiably, unaware of the dark aura gathering beneath amethyst eyes.

"Italien, stop spraying tomato sauce on yourself, I'm sure you've got a lot to say to everyone, but now you're stuffing pasta in your face. Either talk or eat." The blonde wiped a mess of sauce away from the childish country's mouth.

The Russian smiled at this, moistening his lips. The German's voice was a husky baritone, and hearing it's resounding boom throughout the oaken room awoke curiously strong sensations within Ivan. Today in particular, the Ruski felt exceptionally hot under the collar, or scarf, rather. He only experienced such sensations when torturing his Baltic associates, having a lust for a foreign flavor such as the West was a bit atypical. Atypical, yet intriguing. So intriguing.

A loud band rudely pulled the Russian away from his inner thoughts. As usual, Germany's obnoxious brother Prussia-whom Ivan had extreme loathing for-had slammed his fist upon the elongated table, halting the deafening chatter of the countries. His face was beet red in fury, but no one could help but laugh as the furious man began to rant about his so called "Awesome power!!" while a little fuzzy chick romped through his snow white hair.

"Give it a rest, yughhghghumffff!" the equally annoying America shouted from his seat, cramming food into his mouth.

The other countries joined in, chastising the foolish East on his behavior. Ivan turned to the German, who's head was as low as possible, shaking his head in shame. No one could really blame him, his brother was making a mockery of the proud Deutschland.

Unanimously agreeing the Summit would be brought to an abrupt close, the countries rose from their chairs eagerly, chattering away once again. Everyone except for Germany and Russia. Ivan chose to rise first, adjusting his scarf as he confidently made his way over to the sulking blonde.

"Ludwig." Ivan murmured softly, resting a gloved hand on the blonde's shoulder, arising a small jump in fright from the Kraut. "Will you be alright, after Gilbert's outburst?" the Ruski cocked his head innocently, with the face of a naive child.

The German slowly made eye contact with the country looming over him, the intimidating Russian whom, with his every touch, you could swear a cruel winter crept its way into your bloodstream. His blue eyes met the man's dark, lucidly purple irises.

"As you're well aware, he's irrational. He feels unimportant here." Ludwig sighed, his hand absentmindedly toying with a Bic pen on the table. "It's my fault I suppose. He's young, arrogant, unsure of his future as a country, I've never counseled him in proper conduct. He's prone to have outbursts sometimes."

Inwardly, Ivan felt a tempting urge to have an outburst of his own. The German's voice was so authoritative, so controlling, in charge, yet had a soft, passionate side that when falling upon the Ruski's ears, roused a flaring heat below the belt.

"I just don't know if I'm making bad decisions, I've been so busy lately. I've got to watch over my impulsive brother, and then there's the Axis members, especially Italia…"

Millions of intricate cogs turned in Ivan's mind, contemplating a plan to take advantage of the currently emotionally compromised German. Given that Prussia and Italia are both hassles, he'd need a way to occupy their time, isolate them from Germany. _Once alone…hmmm…_

Ivan laughed aloud, inwardly praising himself for such a cunning idea.

Ludwig raised his eyebrows at Ivan, confused at the Russian's sudden bout of laughter while he was discussing his problems. Ivan excused his rudeness calmly, patted the Kraut's broad shoulder with his large hand reassuringly.

"Ludwig, send your brother and that pasta eating malchik to my military conditioning camp for awhile. They will learn important life lessons and with any luck, become mature, da?" the Communist grinned confidently.

"Ahm…" Ludwig stammered, taken aback at the suggestion. He wasn't sure a Russian discipline camp would help his brother, or the delicate Italia. Also, given that the Russian had absolutely no maturity or social skills to speak of, he doubted highly that the camp was effective anyway.

But…as improbable as it seemed to the blonde, the Russian camp did have its merits. He _had_ fallen behind in matters concerning the welfare of himself as a country. He'd been far too occupied with the welfare of Prussia and Italy to even have a moment alone.

"Well…Ludwig, I expect a final answer tonight after dinner." Ivan resolved, smiling warmly.

"Dinner?" the German asked, absolutely lost.

"Dormitory. 8pm." Ivan nodded, leaving Ludwig in the summit room.


	2. Home is where chaos is

Ludwig removed his briefcase from the table, standing up, surveying the room. "A great hall for countries to commune in peace." had been etched into the wooden paneling by China. It was etched there on the first Summit meeting, commemorating the moment in history with elegant cursive.

The German chuckled to himself, below the artful inscription from china was a sloppy carving of a man cramming a burger down his throat. The drawing was only half finished, Ludwig recalled that before America could complete his "artwork", England caught wind of the reckless country's activity, and dragged him away by his ear. He could even recall America protesting "_Stop! A hero must leave his mark!"_ and England smacking him in the head, bellowing "_Oh, __**I'LL **__leave a __**MARK!**__"_

Ludwig left the building, proceeding to his dorm slowly, fatigue always slowed him down one way or another. As soon as the key turned the bolt, the door swung open, and a sauce-covered man tackled him to the floor, hysterically wailing, all the while the auburn curl bouncing among his saucy locks.

"_**D-D-DOITSUUUUUUU!!!**__" _Italia shrieked, clinging to the blonde's now sullied military wear. "_**AAIIIEEEE!!!**__"_ he cried, tears running down his face, scrunched into a despaired expression.

"Shhh…" Ludwig consoled the Italian softly, enveloping him in a warm hug, patting his back. He winced slightly, the pain from the quick impact left the blonde with a headache. "Now, calmly please, tell me what happened."

The young man sniffled, his eyes still glistening with tears. "Ne..ne..Prussia-san..tried to ..cook me…" he quivered into a loud sob, clinging to the German tightly.

Ludwig sat up, rubbing his newly bruised shoulder gingerly, collecting his scattered papers from the impact with the crying man. "Italien, I've warned you about lying. What purpose would Gilbert have had for cooking you?" he shook his head at the tomato sauce covered man, his lies got more absurd every day.

"W..well..Prussia-san said he was in the mood for Italian, so..s-so I went to cook him some pasta, but h-he pushed me against the sink, ripped off my shirt, and poured sauce all over me." The small Italian sniffled, whimpering in fear. "T-then, he s-said he'd r-rather eat an authentic Italian…" the man wailed.

Ludwig's face flushed beet red at his brother's apparent intentions, which thankfully went over the Italian's head. He stood up abruptly, the Italian fell back to the floor.

"D…D.."

"Stay here, Veneciano." The blonde responded darkly, his face almost redder than the sauce drenched Italian.

He nodded at Ludwig, sitting quietly outside the room as the door slammed shut loudly behind the German. Italy sat obediently, not making any noise or causing any trouble to disturb Germany. Italia may have been naïve at most times, but he knew Ludwig had a fearsome temper when provoked, at least, almost as fearsome as…

Italia gulped nervously, as if on cue, his body felt a chill as he uttered the name of his most frightening adversary.

Ivan Braginsky.

* * *

Ludwig stomped into the dorm, out for blood. His brother had gone far enough embarrassing the name of "Germany" infront of his (mostly) prestigious colleagues. But abusing Veneciano sexually was the **very** last straw.

He roamed around the corridors within the huge dorm room, growling like a savage, he would kill that albino bastard on sight.

"_**Bruder…"**_ Ludwig hissed, eyeing a tuft of white hair poking from behind the couch. His cowardly sibling held both hands up, absolutely trembling from his brother's wrath. Prussia's ruby eyes didn't even meet Germany's intimidating gaze, he couldn't.

"Stay there." Ludwig snapped, the Prussian frightened to hysterics, as he obeyed his older brother, not moving an inch from where he stood.

The blonde walked outside, allowing the messy Italian into the dorm room, gesturing both the Italian and Prussia to take a seat on the couch. "Tonight, I expect the both of you to be on your best behavior, since I will be at a…separate engagement tonight. I do _**not**_ want to arrive back home to a melee of chaos like today, is this clear?" Ludwig eyed Prussia bitterly. His brother gulped, nodding quickly in response.

"Where are you off to, Doitsuu?" Italy asked, licking tomato sauce off his fingers messily. Ludwig winced, watching his priceless sofa antique delve into tomato-based ruin.

"Mr Braginsky's quarters." Ludwig sighed, watching his inferiors shudder at the name. "He has diplomatic business to discuss with me."

"Diplomatic, my _**awesome ass!**_" Prussia snorted, reclining back on the sofa lazily. "Bruder, both you and I are _**well aware**_that what Braginsky wants from you is _**anything**_but diplomatic. And you won't last 10 minutes in there, you're not _**nearly **_as awesome as I, you'll fall for that frozen frenchman's mind games for sure." He smirked at Italy in a dark, intimidating and oddly familiar fashion, who whimpered in fear, recoiling from Prussia. Veneciano had experienced Russia's wrath before, the slight reminder left him in constant fear.

"Just stay quiet, Gilbert, I'll return by 10:00pm tonight, you and Veneciano had better be on good terms when I return." Ludwig barked, grabbing a fresh military coat, and left out the door.

"Haha…" Prussia chuckled, murmuring to Italy, "trust me, I know Russia better than most. That bastard has got something for Bruder, and knowing Ivan, I'll bet Bruder won't return til morning at least, if he's compliant."

Italy whimpered, starting to cry, fearing for Doitsu-san's safety.


	3. Intoxication

Cooking had gone as planned, since salmon was in season and quite nice with lemons, garnishes and potato slices, Ivan figured it'd be the ideal meal for the German.

He reached into his spice cabinet, behind paprika, oregano and other common spices for a white bottle, marked with red masking tape, that for his safety, he'd stolen from Belarus. Opening it, Ivan removed two black capsules from the bottle, crushing them into the plate of salmon, coating it with a fine, white powder. After the powder dissolved into the fish, Ivan carried the plate to the table, resting it on the hot plate. Just as he filled two glasses with his finest vodka, the door creaked open.

"I..Ivan-san.." the Ruski heard a brassy voice murmur from outside his door. Ivan smiled cheerfully, turning to greet the tall German. He found it cute that despite Germany's strength and proud, booming voice, he still remained modest and quite shy, surprisingly.

"Evening, Ludwig. If you will sit down, we can begin our meal." Ivan gestured at a deformed-looking marble chair, it looked solid and extremely uncomfortable, but the German sat down, careful not to annoy Ivan whatsoever. He eyed the steaming plate of food as if it was a bomb, but tried hard not to let his uneasiness show.

Ivan served the dish to Ludwig neatly, joining him at the table with a stack of papers. Grabbing a silver fork, Ivan stabbed at a cut of salmon, dicing it upon his own plate. He placed a piece on his tongue, sighing happily at the lemony flavor.

"Delicious, da?" Ivan smiled proudly.

Ludwig selected a thick slab of the pink fish, and 3 wedges of potatoes, mashing them almost obsessively. Piercing a piece of salmon, he bit into it, allowing the taste to flood his palate.

"How very delectable. Excellent culinary skills, Ivan." The blonde praised, savoring the tasty meal. He was honestly shocked at Ivan's cooking skills, he thought the only talent Russians had was holding their bitter liquor.

"I'm glad you like it. Now down to business." Ivan gestured at a thick packet. "So are you interested in my military camp training for your subordinates?"

"Mhm.." Ludwig nodded into his cup, taking a deep gulp, only to sputter and cough from the vile liquid, apologizing profusely for spitting the liquor upon the table and meal.

"That was expensive vodka, it'd be a pity to waste it." Ivan remarked, eyeing the puddle of vodka in front of Ludwig. He reached forward to dabble some on his finger, retreating to his seat, sucking on his gloved, vodka-doused fingers hungrily.

"A-ahem.." Ludwig stuttered, feeling his cheeks redden. He forked more food into his mouth, but he couldn't help but notice Ivan's lips glide over his gloved finger, lingering at the tip, his tongue teasing his finger in slick motions. The German shifted in his seat uncomfortably, trying to block out the Ruski's sucking noises.

"Ahhh…the simplest joy, vodka..." Ivan sighed quietly, drying his finger on a napkin, continuing his meal. "Anyway, I believe with intense training, we can really work Gilbert and Veneciano and they may, one day, be qualified to be called legitimate, well-mannered countries."

"Mhmm." Ludwig murmured, his mind still lingering on the Russian's finger sucking. For some reason his focus wasn't quite on point tonight.

_At least, not as "on point" as other parts of him were at that moment…_

"Wouldn't you agre..Ludwig, are you feeling alright?" Ivan asked innocently, eyeing his dinner guest with concern. Ludwig was suddenly doubled over, gripping the dinner table, his teeth grit, a stressed expression on the blonde's face.

"I…I'm…al…alright." Ludwig strained, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline, immense warmth flooding his veins. "B..but I think I might be s..sick.." the blonde whined, hunching over.

Ivan rose from his chair slowly, taking a seat next to the German, evaluating his physical state calmly. "What could be making you sick?" Ivan mused. "Could it be the fish, the lemons, or the garnish? Hmm..I just don't know.."

"N..no.. I d-don't think…so.." Ludwig twitched, droplets of sweat trailing down his jawline.

"Or…the _**aphrodisiac**_.." Ivan smirked, a sinister gleam lit up his amethyst eyes.

"_**THE WHAT?!**_" Ludwig hissed, clutching his chest, unnerved by the flaring sensations torturing his senses.

Ivan pulled Ludwig onto his lap hastily, ripping apart the German's military coat as if it were mere tissue paper. "Hmmm, Ludwig…or as I recall your _adorable_ little charge calls it, _**Doiitsuuu.."**_ Ivan whispered into his ear, mimicking the Italian's voice, his breath warm with the corrosive vodka. "You look…so…weak…" Ivan grinned maliciously, his gloved fingers teasing the blonde's raised nipples, drawing a low moan from the German's chest.

"Ahaha…you sound so _**dirty**_, Doitsuuu…" Ivan growled, skimming his hands over the blonde's bare chest, lingering on the German's waist, gloved fingers dancing over his intricate features. He delicately grazed his navel, even through his leather gloves Ivan could feel Ludwig's smooth ripples of muscle, and he could feel himself salivate in anticipation, he wanted to take the German as soon as possible.

"Ahhn…aha…mhnn.." the blonde's breathing grew faster, at any point where the Russian touched his skin sent intoxicating waves of pleasure throughout his body.

"You're being so good, so submissive, I suppose…" Ivan murmured, his hand rubbing around the German's crotch, "I can play with you…"

"


	4. Diplomatic Negotiation

"Aahhn…mhnn…d..don't.." Ludwig pleaded, arcing into the Ruski's body, unable to suppress his voice.

Ivan pulled away suddenly. Reaching into his trench coat pocket he withdrew a pair of handcuffs, and a thin bar about 16 inches long when extended, a cuff at each end.

Ludwig groaned in frustration, his body pulsed as it craved attention. The feeling of dutiful years of abstinence for the sake of his country rushed back to him, he felt so depraved..._so hungry, _he needed to release…_preferably into Ivan's luscious mouth._

He struggled to stay focused, feeling himself lean upon the dinner table. Ivan cleared off the table with a quick pull of the tablecloth, sending the meal they'd shared earlier crashing to the floor, save for a bottle of the repulsive vodka he'd drank earlier.

Ivan bent the blonde over, grabbing the German's arms roughly, pulling them behind his back, bonding the wrists together with a "click" of the cuffs. Ludwig growled, struggling to free himself, but the aphrodisiac was ruling his mind, crippling his reflexes simultaneously. Even the cold embrace of the cuffs on his wrists made the blonde shudder in excitement, his pink nipples peaking from the frigid sensation.

Ivan giggled at the sight of Ludwig in submission, absolutely aroused. He grabbed the bar next. Ludwig crossed his legs tightly, wincing at the uncomfortable position, but he couldn't give in to the Russian, he just couldn't. He was Germany, for christ's sake, it was **not** his custom to be so submissive, despite the increasingly tempting opportunity to release his seed after years of deprivation.

But despite Ludwig's best efforts, Ivan knocked the German's legs apart expertly, aiming for the knee, he spread the blonde's legs with relative ease. Ivan pushed Ludwig's ankles into each cuff, locking the bond bracelets shut.

Ludwig wheezed in pain, the table's edge dug into his ribcage, knocking the wind from his lungs as the Russian leaned ontop of him, uncapping the crystalline vodka bottle in front of him.

"Drink." Ivan prompted, pushing the stout lip of the bottle to the German's trembling mouth. Ludwig shook his head stubbornly. Vodka was repulsive, he would **not** drink it again and cause himself to enter an inebriated state. That'd only be advantageous for the Ruski.

"Ludwig. For the welfare of your front teeth, I advise that you drink." Ivan repeated coldly, impatience lingering in his voice. He pushed the bottle to the blonde's lips once more, this time the German opened his mouth, swallowing the bitter liquid reluctantly, allowing a gratuitous amount to dribble down his chin. Ivan slapped him irritably, shaking his head in disappointment. "What did I tell you about wasting vodka?" The blonde recoiled, moaning feebly at the quick flush of pain on his cheek.

Ivan giggled. "Even hitting you gets you hard, huh?" Ivan asked, smacking Ludwig's face harder.

"How _**dirty.**_" Ivan growled, pushing the vodka bottle to the blonde's lips again, forcing him to finish every drop.

His body shuddered, an overwhelming warmth flooding his body. Ludwig gasped suddenly as the Russian unbuckled the German's pants as well as his own with haste.

"S…stop this, Ivaa..aahh.." Ludwig moaned, unable to stifle his voice. Ivan's hand guided his member onto the blonde's delicate skin, rubbing it against him, pre-cum moistening the German's entrance.

"Just seeing another powerful country, succumbing to me, is more than I can take…" Ivan breathed hungrily, licking Ludwig's skin, nibbling it, savoring the taste of the German. "Makes me want to break you…"

"aah…mhmm..noo..." Ludwig whined, the smooth strokes of Ivan's vodka tainted tongue against his neck, the husky tone of his voice, and the feeling of his warm, large member grazing his thighs made the German's cock throb intensely. He couldn't even stroke himself due to the handcuffs, not like Ivan would allow him to anyway.

Ivan grunted, pushing his semi erect member into Ludwig's passage, licking his lips in anticipation as he could feel the blonde recoil from the penetration.

"Aaahh…ahnn.." Ludwig whined, white hot pain flooded his nerves as the Russian entered him without any lube. But as the pain started to linger, a wave of arousal drowned the pain, Ludwig could feel his own member growing hard from Ivan's quick pumping into his entrance.

"You…g-greedy little slut…" Ivan snarled, teeth clenched as he rakes his nails down Ludwig's back. The Ruski could feel his cock begin to throb, the blonde's entrance tightened around his heat as he thrusted deeper into the blonde.

"Aaahnn…aahn…y-yes!!" Ludwig cried, moving his hips against Ivan's massive cock, feeling his own member pulse from the Russian's large heat fill him, pull out, fill him, pull out.

Ivan removed himself momentarily, Ludwig barely caught his breath, turning around to watch the Russian a metallic ring from his trench coat pocket. And below his coat was his fully erect member, pulsing, the head tinged dark red, practically screaming to release. But the Russian loved to hold himself off til the very end, to see how much he could get away with.

Ivan fastened the ring around Ludwig's cock, holding the blonde still as he quivered. "Now, you cannot come before me." Ivan smiled, returning to his position behind the German. But he did nothing, just stood behind Ludwig, grinning. "Is something the matter, my lustful sunflower?"

Ludwig glared, his muscles twitched with anticipation. His body practically shivered with arousal, he _**needed**_ to be violated. _**Now. **_

"_**P…please..Ivan-kun.."**_

The Russian smiled innocently. "What do you want, Ludwig?"

Ludwig shook his head bitterly. In his origin he was a country of pride, people begged him for things, never the other way around. But his need to release grew persistently stronger, his desire to cum growing with every second.

"_**I..I want.."**_the blonde hesitated, wincing from the ring growing tight against his swollen cock.

"_**I wa..AAHH!**_" Ludwig arced slightly, Ivan pushing his member into the German's passage impatiently. "Speak up, German. I have no time to waste." the Russian growled, a lascivious hunger dripped in his voice.

"_**f..fuck me…"**_ Ludwig whined, the aphrodisiac was in full effect, intoxicating him. His pride, logic and sense of fear had left his body completely.

Ivan grinned, moving in and out of the aroused blonde spitefully slow. Ludwig noticed immediately, it wasn't enough to satiate him. Ivan suddenly lurched forward, his swollen head pushing on Ludwig's prostate.

"_**AAAH…Ahh..D..don't stop.."**_ the German pleaded aggressively, salivating from the warmth flooding through his ring-bound cock. It continued to swell and pulse, dribbling clear pre-cum as it began to tinge a deep red.

The Russian moved faster inside Ludwig, intentionally "just missing" the blonde's prostate repeatedly. Ludwig breathed harder, panting and moaning as Ivan's heat buried itself into him, stretching him open, dripping warm, slick pre-cum within him, pulling out in only seconds before its imminent return.

Ludwig's member pulsed demandingly, the pre-cum stopped ebbing from the bar, his cock twitched in a desperate plead for release. The need flooded Ludwig's mind, invading his senses, his every nerve pinpointed on end. _He needed. __**He must.**_ But he'd need to get Ivan to come first before the Ruski would let him.


	5. Agreed, Comrade?

Ludwig groaned, feeling the Russian's nails dig into his tender skin, leaving angry, red lacerations as Ivan buried himself within the German. Ludwig tightened himself around the Russian, his muscles tightening around the man's pulsating member, dribbling pre cum in its wake as it moved faster within the blonde.

"Ahhn.._so..tight…_take me in like a _dirty _slut…" Ivan snarled, thrusting as hard as he could, Ludwig moaning as the Ruski's cock hit the blonde's prostate roughly.

Ludwig's knees threatened to buckle, the overpowering pleasure of Ivan's dick drove him insane, robbed him of his inhibitions. He tightened as hard as he could, tensing his ring around the Russian's member. He knew Ivan loved it, wanted to be inside of him ever since he laid eyes on him, leading up til today.

_**The heated, frantic fucking from the Ruski made it quite clear…**_

"Y-you…you love my big cock, don't you…" Ivan hissed, tracing a line of saliva down Ludwig's neck with his warm, smooth tongue.

"Tell me…tell me you want me to fill you…" Ivan's breath grew labored, his thrusting slowed, he wanted to hear that German's authoritative voice craving him. He was reaching his limit, he needed to hear it to get him off…

"I…Ivan-kun…" Ludwig murmured, unable to form sentences with Ivan's lusty movements with his throbbing cock.

"Mhmmm.." Ivan struggled, he could feel the Russian thrusting almost…almost…

Ludwig turned suddenly, lying atop of the table. He pulled the lascivious Ruski on top of him by his pink scarf, a knot of fabric bunched in his white knuckled fist. His hands grasped Ivan's flushed face, pulling it close to his own, heatedly crushing his lips onto Ivan's. He pulled away for a brief moment.

He lowered his hand, guiding Ivan's swollen member to his wet, tight entrance once more. "Please, Ivan Braginski, fill me with your sticky cum…"

He pushed his mouth on the Russian's once again, shivering at Ivan's quickened motions. He pumped harder and harder, breaking the heated kiss, resting his chin on the blonde's shoulder as he pushed deeper into the tight passage.

"I can't hold it…any more...ah…ahnn…" Ivan pushed one last time, Ludwig salivating as he anticipated the Russian's reward. Arcing his back to full height, the blonde shuddered as Ivan's cock tensed, firing spurts of hot seed within him. Ivan gave a strangled cry, moving his hips stiffly, milking every drop of his cum into Ludwig's sweet entrance.

The German's breathing quickened as he felt his own cock respond accordingly, becoming painfully aroused as the Russian pulled out, attempting to catch his breath. But due to the bonds restricting Ludwig's limbs, self service was a bit difficult.

"I-Ivan…one more thing…" Ludwig pleaded, barely able to string words into a sentence as Ivan's cum leaked from his passage, trailing down his legs. The Russian turned to face him, amethyst eyes darkening in malice.

"And that would be…?" Ivan inquired innocently, but his voice was crisp and translucent, his every intention clearly spelled out behind it.

"I n-need to …well, that is…I want…"

Ivan stepped forward bluntly, lowering a hand to stroke the German's dripping wet member. "I detest stuttering, so…forget about making a point, because.." jerking the ring teasingly, "It's quite clear you already have." Ivan smirked, lowering himself to level himself with Ludwig's erect cock.

Cradling it in both hands, Ivan ran his tongue up the blonde's heat, tracing saliva around the slit, smiling at the veins rising and the dark red blush on the German's tip. "Ooohh…no…p-please.." Ludwig gasped, biting his lip as he could feel his dick swell to its limit, the demanding muscle pressing against the metallic cock ring tightly.

With a quick turn, Ivan removed the cock ring with his teeth, tossing it to the side. Before Ludwig could react, Ivan took him into his mouth once more, wrapping a gloved hand at the base of the blonde's shaft, pumping it rhythmically. Ludwig moaned louder, jerking his hips forward as the contractions increased. Snaking his fingers through Ivan's thick hair, gripping the strands, he couldn't help himself as he began to thrust into Ivan's mouth violently.

Ivan remained still, unopposed. His hand continued to massage Ludwig's cock, he could taste the German's slick pre cum, and the warm taste was irresistible. His bated breath grew louder, unable to sustain composure. "Aaah…Aahn..AHH-" Ludwig cried, feeling a wave of innate pleasure consume him. With a final thrust, he pulled the Russian's hair, burying himself to the hilt, relieving himself inside Ivan's mouth with a final violent jerk. Ivan closed his eyes in serenity, savoring the bittersweet dessert of the German's seed as it shot onto his tongue, coated his throat in a welcome embrace. His throat made a barely audible swallowing sound, and a sigh of satisfaction could be heard from the two as they both fell to the floor in exhaustion.

Ivan slowly undid Ludwig's binds, removing the bar on his ankles, and the wrist cuffs, tossing them into the sink, probably to wash them.

"So I assume we're in agreement." Ivan commented as if nothing had interrupted their meeting, buckling his pants and buttoning his trench coat. "Veneciano and Gilbert will report directly to my campus a day a week for disciplinary training, da?"

Ludwig redressed himself, unable to mull over the details of any plans for his subordinates when all the chaos of what had just occurred swarmed in his head like angry bees. "I s-suppose." He stood up shakily, feeling fatigue emerge within him. He no longer desired to dwell within Ivan's house, he wanted to go home and sleep off everything. Maybe at some point think clearly.

"Alright, well have a safe walk home, Ludwig." Ivan smiled, turning away to fold the table cloth that was strewn upon the floor tiles of the dining area, hugging it to his chest. "Don't forget our little talk, okay?" he giggled, stuffing the folded table cover into a pantry.

"Good night, Ivan." Ludwig found himself responding in a meek whisper, barely able to make eye contact as he slipped out the door. His heart was pounding like an anxious snare drum in a devil's march. What was it, fear? Anger? sadness? Anxiousness?

He didn't even want to think about it. He checked his onyx embossed watch, wincing at the lateness of the hour. Hopefully the two troublemaking men were fast asleep, Ludwig was in no mood to deal with his arrogant brother's boasting. Or Veneciano's sobbing for that matter. Either one was a one way ticket to a migraine. He just craved sleep, dark, comfortable sleep.

Opening the oaken door quietly, he breathed a steady sigh of relief, the room was inky black, and the rumbling snore and tiny sniffle of two sleeping subordinates was loud and clear. The room was even clean, untouched by chaos or anarchy while he was away. Slinking through the room, he shut the door to his bedroom behind him ever so carefully. After all, both Gilbert and Veneciano were light sleepers, and Ludwig wasn't looking forward to entertaining either of them with a recollection of what he'd done. Eagerly stripping off the stately German regalia down to his bare skin, he crept into his bathroom contentedly. Throwing down a cotton towel onto the rack, he climbed into his shower, combating exhaustion with every move.

Hot spray from the shower was always welcome, the blonde scrubbing every intricate feature of his well built frame, hoping to scrape away every trace of Ivan possible. His muscles ached deeply from Ivan's rough movements, and purple bruises began to take form on his arms and neck from the Ruski's eager thrusts. The scrub brush grazed a bruise on his chest, causing Ludwig to wince in pain.

He couldn't help but find his mind returning to Ivan's room, replaying the night's events. Ivan's handcuffs, his lusty voice, _his massive…pulsing…_

Ludwig growled, dismissing the thoughts from his head. He had to do _anything_ but recall that brute's sexual acts. He couldn't help himself though, despite his strict decorum, he couldn't help but remember the pleasure, the sensation of being filled by Ivan's aggressive heat. But thinking about the well-endowed Russian, especially in the shower, felt so…_dirty._

The blonde felt his throat constrict, his lungs quiver, he felt like he was suffocating, drowning in the flashbacks. The hot water reverberated against his shoulders, water droplets striking his member, which was admittedly growing hard from thoughts of the Ruski. He couldn't help but allow a hand to stray below his navel, he began to pump his semi-erect cock steadily, thoughts of Ivan fucking him hungrily running through his head. Every thought was so intense, the past felt like the present.

"aahnn…Ivan…_f..fuck_.." Ludwig swore, his member throbbing at the mere mention of the Russian's name. "F…_fill me_ _again_..." he hissed under the coaxing warmth of the rushing water, allowing stray droplets of the heated liquid to hit the slit of his cock, moaning at the intense waves of arousal.

Ludwig leaned against the marble wall of the shower, reclining into the shower bench unable to utter a sound, torn between the torrential need to cum and the cold, raw fear at the sight in front of him at that very moment.

A billowing cloud of steam cleared from the front of the shower, revealing a grandiose display of gold encrusted faucets spraying heated water, marble paneling spanning the shower, and leaning against the elaborately clad faucet, was the smiling, naked form of none other than Ivan Braginski, with a smug grin on his lips and the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes.

"Miss me?" Ivan giggled, ascending to the bench where the naked and embarrassingly aroused Ludwig cowered. Even in fear, Ludwig couldn't help but marvel at the Russian's muscular body, and how good he looked when absolutely soaked.

Ludwig inched himself up on the bench, unable to possibly imagine a successful means of escape.


	6. Troubled Waters

"H..how…did you get in-"

"Shhh…" Ivan murmured, resting a moist gloved finger upon the German's trembling lips. He advanced so Ludwig was fully splayed against the wall, almost attempting to scale the marble paneling to escape the Ruski.

Ivan pressed his leg between Ludwig's, the wet fabric clung to his skin as it rubbed against the blonde's skin.

"Aaahn.." Ludwig bit his lip, stifling a moan as he tried to ignore the pleasant friction generating a low warmth around his groin.

"Please moan for me, I've missed your sweet voice, Ludwig." Ivan smiled, biting the water slicked skin on the blonde's throat lightly, "So much..." He placed both hands on Ludwig's hips, urging him away from the wall, moving the blonde against his leg.

"Aahh..nnhngh…" Ludwig bit harder on his lip, drawing blood in order to keep himself from emitting any noise. If Prussia or Italia heard his voice and woke up, Russia would become intrigued enough to become violent and all hell would break loose.

Ivan stepped back irritably, allowing the blonde to fall to the shower floor, helpless and embarrassingly aroused. "You're awfully quiet tonight." He knelt to Ludwig's level on the shower floor, smoothing back stray locks of hair from the German's brow. Even through the mist, his icy blue eyes met Ivan's eyes directly, yet wearily. "I…I'm just tired…I want to sleep…" Ludwig murmured, his deep voice blended into the almost hypnotic drumming of the heated water.

Ivan stood up, enveloped in a shrouding mist, but Ludwig could barely make out the sounds of clicking of a buckle, and the wet, sort of *clap!* noise that wet clothes often made when they were carelessly cast to the ground.

"_Perhaps this will be enough to keep you awake."_ A lusty voice growled, and with a powerful lift from under the intricate crevices of Ludwig's arms, the blonde found himself propped up on the shower bench quite precariously.

"W..wh.." Ludwig stuttered as the mist began to clear, meeting Ivan's wry smile. Without warning, the Ruski lifted the German to lean against the wall once more, but this time, wrapped the blonde's legs around his waist tightly. Ludwig blushed furiously, unable to ignore his member growing erect as it repeatedly grazed Ivan's muscled frame, or Ivan's member under his.

Almost involuntarily, the blonde wound his arms around the Russian's neck, his only thoughts to prepare for the inevitable.

He gave a small cry as the Russian wasted no time, pushing his fully aroused cock into Ludwig's entrance. The blonde winced, feeling Ivan's cock throb hungrily within him. Ludwig couldn't help but shiver as he felt his inner walls close around Ivan's member, taking him all the way to the hilt.

"Ivan please do-_oooh_…" Ludwig's protest was drowned out by a feeble moan, feeling Ivan beginning to move within him, his cock rubbing him the right way.

"Aahn..aaahnghh.." Ludwig drawled out his moans lazily, the wonderful sensation of Ivan's pulsating member moving within him left him without the ability to fight back.

Ivan thrusted harder, biting into Ludwig's shoulder, his cock swelling as it entered the blonde. "You're so tight, Ludwig-kun…_so fucking tight.._" Ivan hissed, burying himself deeper into the blonde, his nails raking upon old scars on the German's skin.

"_**WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"**_

A loud voice echoed painfully loud throughout the shower room, ringing in Ludwig's ears, burying itself into his mind. The two froze, the shower water still reverberating off their naked bodies.

Prussia stood at the doorway, in snow white pajamas, his ruby eyes trained solely on Ivan, whom even at being caught, found it difficult to stop pumping within the blonde's passage, quite irritated at being interrupted.

"_You, yeah you, you fucking frozen Frenchman, that question was for you, what the fuck are you doing?"_ Prussia snarled, strutting forward to get a better look at the scene in front of him.

"If it isn't clear enough, it would appear that I'm currently inside your brother." Ivan replied tersely. "Which by the way, doesn't require your presence at any length." He added, annoyed at Gilbert's tone.

"Nobody, not anybody, _especially alcoholic Russians such as yourself_, can fuck my brother except for the _awesomeness that is PRUSSIA!"_ Gilbert bellowed. Ludwig shot him a dark glare, even in his current predicament, he was in no mood to hear his brother's perverted intentions for him.

"Ah. How charming, incest in the Deustchland. And here I thought you lacked class AND a dick, Prussia." Ivan remarked nastily, growing quickly tired with the foolish country's banter.

"Fuck you, Russian prick!" Prussia roared, throwing a fist at the naked Ruski. Even with both arms occupied, Ivan shifted Ludwig's weight onto one arm, catching Gilbert's fist easily. Prussia whined pitifully, watching Ivan's eyes darken in bloodlust as his wet, gloved fist closed around Gilberts, crushing it with a resounding *crack*.

Prussia grit his teeth, the agonizing pain causing tears to run down his cheeks as all his fingers were broken at once by the large man. "F-f..fucker…"

"STOP!" Ludwig barked loudly, causing Ivan to lower him to the shower floor, and Prussia to be silent. "Don't hurt him, Ivan, or I'll never forgive you!" He glared at Prussia.

Ivan released Gilbert's mangled fist reluctantly, backing away from the albino aggressor. "I apologize, Ludwig-kun, now if we co-"

"Actually…" Ludwig interjected. "I think it'd be for the best if you took your leave now, Ivan." He stared at the floor, unable to meet the Ruski's eyes.

"Oh, don't stop this fuck-fest for my sake, Ludwig!" Gilbert glared at Ivan. "I knew I couldn't trust the two of you alone together, this sick bastard plays games with your head, brother!" He snapped angrily, unable to control the volume of his voice.

"w…what's going…on..?" A meek voice traveled from the hallway, bunny slippers could be heard padding down the hallway towards the source of the ruckus.

Ludwig's face turned beet red, turning to Prussia quickly. "Put him to bed, Gilbert, now!" he hissed, shoving his brother forcefully towards the mouth of the bathroom door.

"Nothing, Veneciano, off to bed…" Gilbert's voice faded as he escorted the sleepy Italian back to his bedroom.

"Lud-" Ivan started, walking towards his lover slowly.

"Leave now, Ivan. Please." Ludwig sat on the shower bench, his head in his hands, his thoughts were an absolute mess, and the Russian's presence wasn't helping.

"Fine then. For your sake, though." Ivan redressed himself reluctantly, wrapping his beloved scarf around his neck.

Stepping out of the shower, Ivan emerged, his thick boots trailing water through the bathroom as he left. At the door he met Prussia, who was nursing his damaged hand tenderly.

"I hope your hand heals well, Gilbert." Ivan murmured as he passed the door nonchalantly.

"Choke and die, you fucking jerk." Prussia snarled, sniffling back tears as the pain in his hand intensified.

"Sleep with one eye open, Prussia." Ivan giggled as Prussia shivered in fear at the thought of Russia's wrath occurring in his sleep.

As Ivan left and the door closed behind him, Prussia rushed in to see his brother dressing himself in warm pajamas, climbing into his bed.

"Have a good night, brother. Remember, my awesome self won't always be there to rescue you from that pervy bastards clutches. I know you've learned your lesson this time around." Prussia remarked, leaving for his own room.

Guilt flooded his chest as soon as Prussia's words met his ears. Ludwig buried his face deeper into the pillow, attempting to drown out the pleasurable sensation of Ivan entering him, and the deep, lusty voice of the Russian.

_Yeah, Prussia said that I've learned my lesson by now._

_Problem is though, I didn't._


	7. Unwelcome Restraint

Unwelcome rays of light fought their way through drawn, dusty blinds, casting a guilty limelight on the sleepy German. Even the fluffiest of cotton pillows couldn't protect his eyes from the first…and worst…parts of morning. Waking up.

Ludwig sat up, yawning lazily, but flinched, wincing at the pain from his wounds as his body moved. This only brought back chaotic flashbacks from the night before, and it only made his mood worse for wear. Kicking off layers of silk blankets, he entered the bathroom, beginning his morning routine as always. The mirror caught his eye, his bare chest was aligned with lacerations and bruises, no doubt from the Russian's teeth and nails throughout the whole torrential sexual escapade.

Peering downwards, his eyes followed the trail of wounds to his navel, lifting the waistband of his boxer pants to examine his "priority." Luckily the wounds halted at his waist, the Ruski hadn't had the chance to get_ too_ rough in that region.

Ludwig left the bathroom quickly, unable to reminisce any longer. He needed to concentrate on work today, he was desperately behind schedule, and there were several issues demanding his attention. Dressing himself in a simple black polo shirt and brown slacks, he left his personal quarters in a hurry in pursuit of his office, briefly catching a glimpse of the kitchen to say hello to Veneciano. Closing his office door behind him, he exhaled slowly, grasping a bic pen and a cup of coffee, bracing himself to face the day_**.**_

But upon reclining in his chair, Ludwig jumped in shock, toppling over his coffee mug, sending the steaming liquid inside across the oak desk, soaking Foreign Affairs documents and gott knows what else. He stood up in alarm, feeling pinpricks of anxiety crawl under his skin.

He realized it at that moment, that it had been entirely too easy to enter his office. Entirely too easy to leave his bedroom, pass the kitchen AND resume his work without a single obnoxious interruption, question, or perverted joke.

_**WHERE'S PRUSSIA?**_

Ludwig burst through the door with impressive speed, tearing down the hall into the kitchen, nearly startling Veneciano, who was eating pizza and watching reruns of old cartoons. He stopped at the mouth of the kitchen, grabbing the Italian by the shoulders, eyeing him directly.

"I-Italia, where is my bruder?" Ludwig wheezed, struggling to catch his breath.

"Doiitsuu…you're being scary…" Italia whimpered, tears threatening to escape his golden eyes, his bottom lip quivering. The German released his grip on the young ones shoulders, he'd momentarily forgotten the Italian's sensitivity.

"I'm sorry Italia, but you need to answer me. It's _very _important, okay?" Ludwig repeated, ruffling the younger man's hair affectionately. "Now, please. Tell me where Gilbert is."

The Italian hesitated, breaking eye contact with the blonde for a moment to think it over. "He…Prussia-san that is, told me not to _tell_ you…"

Ludwig ground his teeth in frustration. Time was of the essence and he needed 100% accurate information, and he was certain the Italian knew of Gilbert's location. Besides, Veneciano was terrible at bluffing, lying, any skill of that kind.

"Veneciano. Disclose Gilbert's location. That's an order." Ludwig spoke sternly to the Italian for what was the first time in months, and he knew the Italian had a weak spot for authoritative commands.

But the Italian's shoulders began to shake, and as expected, he burst into tears. _"B-b-bb-but if I tell, P-P-Prussia-san said he'd take me down and cut off my di-!"_

Ludwig clapped his hand over the young one's mouth, the blonde couldn't mentally deal with Prussia's absence, let alone his dirty and uncalled for remarks to the young Italian. Slowly removing his hand, he began to tap his foot impatiently, waiting on the Italian to speak.

"Um…well…he went to Mr. Braginski's house." Veneciano whispered, trembling.

Ludwig cursed silently, darting to the front of the dormitory, grabbing his military jacket with enough force to knock over the coat rack, and slammed the door behind him.

Running down the hallway, his background was a blur, wind blasting behind him as he sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him to the Communist's residence. Time was of the essence, and Gilbert was in danger.

* * *

The painful *CLANG* of chains reverberated through the small basement level room. They descended from their cast iron bonds on the ceiling, draping like industrial vines in midair. Usually they lived a life, more like a prolonged existence without purpose, swinging nearly silently in the stale air in the sub level room.

Which usually remained vacant and pitch black.

Containing nothing more than old documents abandoned long ago, broken desks, long-since-retired utilities and maintenance tools, and the lanky chains that held their place within this room.

But today, on this very morning, the resilient chains found their purpose, in restraining a rather wily albino, who spat more curses than he could count on both hands.

He remained suspended in the barely inhabitable space, stripped of his military wear, his only cover being seafoam tinged boxers that hugged his waistline. He paid no mind to the frigid air, his body neither shook nor shivered. The only expression on his face was one of blind rage.

The clasps bonded to the chains on the ceiling held tight to the albino man's hands, chafing his pale skin cruelly as his weight and gravity worked as one to work gashes into his wrists.

He could see nothing, all he knew was what he felt. He was aware he was chained, robbed of movement, absolutely helpless in the darkness and only a dim light shining through the room from a dim bulb above.

A soft voice broke the silence, one that the albino captive was enraged to hear.

"You almost look cute, helplessly bonded like that, you know."

"Shut the _fuck _up!" Gilbert snapped, struggling to keep as still as possible, with every movement, the clasps buried deeper into his skin. It was nerve-wracking in the darkness to be subjected to such a mocking voice, in addition to the chain's commanding grip on his limbs.

"Oh, you." The voice cooed, traveling closer and closer, heavy footfalls approaching the albino captive from where he hung in midair. "It's somewhat unlike you to _hang around _this lower level storage room, isn't it?"

Prussia could hear the cruel smirk within that comment, baring his teeth like an animal. "We both know very well that _you_ trapped my awesomeness in here_...Braginski_." he spat, accenting the last name of his captor with a tone of disgust. "What…did you run out of willing contestants for cheap sexual favors, _you_ _sick fuck_?" Prussia shouted at the bathos darkness.

"Ehuhu!" Ivan giggled, approaching the vicious albino with gusto. "Prussia, you resort to molesting your brother, Ludwig, for sexual favors, da?" the Ruski mused aloud, "And, since it's obviousno candidates with a pulse desire to…as you say… _fuck_ you, I find it odd for _you_ to criticize _me_."

Prussia snarled, struggling to escape his position. He began whining loudly at the white hot pain from his mangled fist and his wrists, which had been punctured by the clasp's brittle edges, and left fresh cuts on his milky skin. "Son of a bitch…drunkard…you're a motherfucking psycho to even _attempt_ to trap the invincible awesomeness that is Pr-!"

All Gilbert's ears heard was a light whistling noise as, to his surprise, a blunt object sliced through the air at startling speed, connecting with his chest. Prussia recoiled violently, the clasps raking deeper into his wrists, blood dripping down his arms at a steady pace. He wheezed, desperate to recollect the air he lost and cope with the blinding pain of possibly damaged ribs.

"The _invincible_ awesomeness that is…hmm.._**you?**_" Ivan asked mockingly, stifling a laugh. "Well, pardon this Russian drunkard with the _obvious_ advantage here, but it is to my understanding that, in most cases when you describe something as _invincible_…" Ivan leaned forward, using a familiarly stiff pipe to lift Prussia's jaw to meet the Russian's gaze, "that something as minor as, say, _the swift strike of a metal drain pipe_, couldn't affect you?" Ivan sneered.

Gilbert closed his eyes only briefly, his sole concentration was fixed onto remaining alive. He readjusted himself, his waist now at a higher angle than his head, the main weight of his body now shifting to his ankles, relieving the pressure on his wrists. Blood trickled at a slower pace now, and the impending dizziness set in, and the albino needed to regain and conserve oxygen.

"Answer me, you pathetic, arrogant excuse for a pawn." Ivan growled, losing his calm tone, an air of contempt thick in his voice. "What compelled you, _dare I ask_, to interrupt my time with your brother to instigate a fight, hmm?"

Prussia spat in response into the darkness, unconcerned with where it landed. Much to his joy, and his misfortune, it hit Ivan's cheek with a wet sound, trailing down the Russian's face.

Ivan loomed over the Prussian, whom even under pressure as a captive, maintained a flimsy façade of stability. He lowered a gloved hand, yanking hard on the chains suspending Gilbert's wrists, causing them to cut further into the albino flesh. Gilbert wailed loudly, drawing a giggle from the sadistic Ruski.

"Ah, Gilbert." Ivan murmured with a disturbed grin. "You should've seen what I did last night, or felt it, rather. It was impressive, how much your brother released for me…_that frothy cum on my skin, it was just the best." _Ivan reminisced, drawing out every syllable.

"Shut your perverted mouth about bruder, you shit-faced psycho!" Prussia shot back, trying to filter the Russian's words out of his mind, but they permeated through Gilbert's defense easily.

"And may my _sincerest _apologies reach the ears of the foul-mouthed Prussian brat." Ivan spat coldly, twirling the U-trap pipe with renewed vigor. "After all, I've brought you here to tell you, I'm breaking my deal with Ludwig."

Prussia lifted his head weakly, glaring into the dank blackness. "Someone as awesome as I cannot trust a Russian's word." He muttered. "You'd never break your deal with bruder."

"How _wrong _you are." Ivan giggled, moving in close enough for the Prussian captive to detect vodka on the Ruski's warm breath. "I intend to break one promising item from your brother."

"In fact…" Ivan continued, allowing a gloved finger to graze down the Prussian's abdomen, "I intend to break you."


	8. Darkness Falls

Bursting through the intimidating doorway, Ludwig emerged breathlessly into the Russian's quarters. He felt ready to take on anything, and maybe…just maybe, even Ivan himself. But an immediate flush of embarrassment lit up the German's cheeks at his wrong assumptions upon entering the room.

To his surprise, Ivan hadn't even left his dormitory; it seems he was busy toiling away at dinner for himself. Used pots and pans were coated in oils from cooking, mingling in a sea of soapy dishwater as each was discarded accordingly. The finished culinary dish laid nearby, displayed artfully upon a bronze platter embroidered with the Soviet insignia.

Instantly a familiar smell blessed Ludwig's nose, a salmon dish, sprinkled with lemon.

"Care to join me, Ludwig?" Ivan offered as he carried the dish to an unfortunately familiar dining table, smiling warmly at the blonde despite his abrupt, yet predictable entrance. "You won't have to fear, this dish is clear of drugs of any kind." He commented with a chuckle, seating himself.

_Haha…as if I'd trust Ivan's word alone. _

Ludwig shook his head in a polite, withdrawn refusal. Instead he made his way over to the man, taking a seat by his side at the table in an oddly designed chair.

"Hmm…" Ivan rested a gloved hand atop Ludwig's, meeting his lowly gaze. "It seems it doesn't take an aphrodisiac to get you to sit next to me after all." He grinned, his eyes bright with hope. The Ruski had never known the feeling of friendship before, it was absolutely foreign to him.

"I-Ivan, I need to ask you something, it's a matter of urgency…" Ludwig insisted; unaware that he'd tightened his grasp around the Russian's hand.

"Well, if it's so _urgent_, then speak, Ludwig." Ivan resolved simply, flashing a smile that, to Ludwig, even in the worst of moments seemed cute.

"It's about P-"

"Prussia, da?" Ivan interrupted; removing his hand from Ludwig's to fold his arms across his chest. "Can't we just have _one _visit together where the topic isn't on that…that…_brutish_ example of the benefits of abortion…" Ivan snarled; then realizing he'd lost his complacent form, corrected himself with an *ahem*, a small giggle escaping his lips.

"Ivan, please, if you know anything…or did any-"

"_Please_, Ludwig." Ivan interjected, "Leave the 21 questions game to grade school children." He spat coldly, taking a quick swig of vodka from a flask he held close to his heart, tucked safely away into an inner trench coat pocket. "If you're going to accuse me of something, please get to the point." Ivan eyed the blonde directly.

"Gilbert is missing, Ivan, and I've got a feeling you know more about his disappearance than you let on." Ludwig glared at the smiling Russian, newfound courage flooding his chest as he spoke clearly.

Ivan continued to eat, unresponsive to Ludwig's accusation, pausing only to take a swig of water. The clink of silverware permeated the silence, and Ludwig felt his confidence waning. Nothing he'd said had even made an impression on the Ruski, not even a blink of an eye.

"_Answer me at once, Ivan Braginski, or admit you're a mere shadow of the Communist regime_." Ludwig snapped, his booming voice was his last weapon at the moment, and he intended to use it to grab the blonde's attention.

All Ludwig saw was a flash of a pink scarf as his head was smacked into the oak table violently. It took all his strength to remain conscious, the room spinning out of control as a dull pain sunk into his skull. Gloved fingers pressed into his skin like 5 needles, vodka-tainted breath looming over his ear.

"_It seems your absence from my residence has caused you to forget your manners."_ Ivan sneered, pulling the blonde from his seat by the fabric of his shirt collar. "If you want to ask for something, you say _please." _He lectured, throwing Ludwig to the floor roughly.

He kneeled to Ludwig's semi-conscious body, grabbing a fistful of the blonde's collar once more, lifting him from the floor like a rag doll. "Perhaps years of tolerating that Prussian fool has poisoned the prim attitude of a true German." Ivan smiled, toying with the blonde's pride. He lifted the blonde over his shoulder, carrying him none-too-delicately out of the kitchen area, into a darker region of the Russian's dormitory.

"Now, if you wanted to see your brother, you could have just asked." Ivan said simply, continuing into the dark area.

Ludwig's eyesight wasn't failing him as he'd first thought, he was brought into absolute darkness. He could feel slight bumps from atop Ivan's shoulder. He assumed by the constant bumps that they were descending quite a few flights of stairs. He hung helplessly over Ivan's shoulder, unable to see, only able to feel the slow, easy breathing of the Russian as he walked.

The trip ended with a sudden halt, and Ludwig was dropped abruptly at the Russian's feet. The room was musty, freezing, and just felt cramped and uncomfortable altogether. Ludwig crawled around, finding his footing slowly, but winced as he hit his head on dangling objects on his way up. Staring into darkness, he could only hear a faint metallic ringing.

_Chains? _

_From the ceiling?_

_Where the hell did Ivan take me?_

As if on cue, Ivan walked away from Ludwig briefly, flicking a light switch. Above them, a dimly lit bulb went on. The heavy *thump* of the Russian's boots inched closer as Ivan directed the blonde's attention to the spectacle in front of them, grasping the German's hand tightly. Ludwig gasped, only able to move his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming.

Suspended only by corroded chains was a bloody mess of a body, its limbs twisted in unnatural positions. It writhed among the tangled chains, attempting to capture as much oxygen as its undoubtedly damaged lungs could take in. Whimpering cries hit Ludwig's ears, it pulled at every fiber within him. In the past he'd seen victims of war in better condition, and he was compelled to help.

He broke from Ivan's grasp, running towards the horrifying scene before him.

"I tried to warn you…" Ivan murmured, shaking his head sadly.

"Wh…._**what have you done to this…this…poor soul?**_" Ludwig cried in shock, his entire body trembling violently. He'd seen the Russian's wrath before, but nothing compared to this. "_**And where is my brother!"**_ Ludwig shouted angrily, perusing the dimly lit room frantically.

"I believe you've missed the point of my little exhibit." Ivan replied, approaching the hysterical blonde without hesitation. His gloved hand directed Ludwig's attention towards the floor once more.

A single, wispy object had fallen from the body, floating languidly for a moment in midair. It landed on the floor in silence, a single droplet of blood ebbing from its tiny fibers.

It was a tiny, golden feather.

A tiny, bloodred, golden feather.

Ludwig belted out a painful roar, his knees buckling immediately, unable to move.


	9. Inevitable Satiation

Ivan turned on his heel, feeling slightly disappointed. His little ruse had gone so well so far, but with the melancholy tones it became boring quickly.

"Please get up, Ludwig." The Russian coaxed.

Ludwig's body shook in despair, only looking up to smack away Ivan's hand.

"Gilbert is not dead yet, but continue to disobey and frustrate me, and that will be quickly changed." Ivan snapped, tapping his boot impatiently.

Ludwig slowly found his footing, his hands clenched into fists, trying his best to fight off the temptation to wrap them around the Russian's throat.

"H-how could you do this to him…" Ludwig hissed, finding it increasingly difficult to control his volume as the state of his sibling slowly sunk in.

"I think you should change that ungrateful tone." Ivan murmured thoughtfully. "After all, I'm doing your brother a favor."

"A _favor?"_ the German roared, "_How the hell is destroying my poor brother a favor!_"

"Your brother walked in on the performance, but never caught the grand finale." Ivan replied simply, slowly approaching the infuriated blonde.

"What _grand _fina-"

Ivan grabbed the German by his waist, pulling him close to his form. Nose to nose, their eyes locked briefly as Ivan's hand lowered to caress the blonde's hips.

"…_you wouldn't."_

"Oh, but to save your brother's life, you certainly would." Ivan giggled, his fingers lingering on the crotch of the German's pants. They dipped under his belt, lightly teasing his member through his underwear. "I'm in the mood for two things at the moment. One of them involves your complete obedience. The other is swinging a U-trap pipe through your dear brother's skull. I'm sure you recognize the safer option."

Ludwig turned to glance at Gilbert briefly, his poor bruder suspended by the daunting chains, groaning feebly.

_Das Russian pervertieren…_

_He'll kill Gilbert if I refuse to comply…_

Ludwig cursed under his breath, a steely glare meeting Ivan's opalescent eyes. Humiliation was a pawn Ivan wasn't afraid to use to his advantage.

"Do what you will, Russian schwein, but first promise my brother's safety."

"His safety lies with your obedience. Simple enough, da?" Ivan smirked, turning to the mess of chains and flesh before him. "Stay awake long enough to catch the show, Gilbert!" he smiled, waving at the badly wounded man as if excited to see him.

Ivan's hand left Ludwig's pants, guiding the German towards the dim light bulb illuminating the room poorly. A world-worn wicker chair came into view, and placed quite close to the wounded Prussian. Ludwig winced at the clearer sight of poor Gilbert, his wounds were deep and ebbing blood, his body struggling to escape from the corroded shackles.

Ivan sat upon the chair, prompting the German to follow suit. He patted his right leg cheerfully, like a mall Santa would do to coax a small child to sit.

"Have a seat."

Ludwig didn't dare hesitate and obeyed, leaning his entire body weight onto Ivan's leg on purpose, hoping to cause the Russian pain. But Ivan didn't even flinch, moving Ludwig so he was straddling the Russian's leg. Placing his hands on the German's hips, Ivan forced him to grind up and down his leg slowly. Carefully applying pressure, Ivan gripped Ludwig's waist so it rubbed up against his leg harder as it moved. A low moan escaped the blonde's tightly pursed lips.

"Doesn't your brother sound nice when he's aroused, Prussia?" Ivan asked loudly, awaiting the wounded body's answer as he continued to move Ludwig's waist rhythmically.

"Nnnh.." Gilbert struggled to form words, the vicious sting of his wounds waning as a dull ache set in.

"You're awful quiet for an arrogant loudmouth. I suppose if you aren't satisfied with the view from where you are, you could've just said something." Ivan grinned, scooting the chair closer to the Prussian. He stopped moving Ludwig momentarily to unbuckle his slacks, pulling them down around his ankles along with his underwear, dotted with liquid on the front.

He moved the blonde faster against his leg, enjoying the sensation of Ludwig's semi hard cock brushing against his thigh repeatedly. Ludwig bit his lip as hard as he could, struggling to muffle his moans in front of his brother.

_I can't get hard in front of Gilbert…in his current state…_

_This is insanity…_

_Damn that Russian bastard…._

"_Aaahhn…" _Ludwig moaned gutturally, unable to stifle himself as the friction against the Russian increased, heat building around his member as it moved against the Ruski.

"G…get y-your…..h-hands off him…" a wheezing voice commanded, causing the Russian to stop. Prussia had finally gathered the strength to speak, and lifted his neck shakily to glare directly at Ivan.

Ivan stood up abruptly, lifting Ludwig from his leg and pulling him roughly by the arm closer to Prussia's feeble body, ignoring the German's stumbling as he tried to walk with the pants almost binding his legs.

"Why, so you can have _your_ hands on him?" Ivan sneered, dragging Ludwig close to Prussia. "Since _you _interrupted my last encounter with Ludwig, this time you'll have to watch."

"Not like you'd be able to do much anyway. A bit tied up at the moment, da?" Ivan chuckled darkly, yanking a chain upwards, its shackle slicing into Prussia's wrist cruelly.

"But, there's one thing I'd like you to do." Ivan paused, smiling innocently. "Since I like to keep a relatively clean floor, and you seem to love your brother in quite a disturbing way, I'd like you to clean him up when I'm done."

Prussia hissed angrily from his position, inwardly wishing to rip the childlike smile off the smug Russian's face.

Ivan moved forward, shoving Ludwig forward towards nearby unused chains. Securing the blonde's wrists into the clasps, he moved behind Ludwig, lifting his waist on an angle. Ludwig forced his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. His mind was far too clouded, the risks too great to fall back now.

Ivan unbuttoned his coat, tossing it to the floor carelessly. Undoing his belt, he removed his pants quickly, more than happy to return to the German's muscled body.

Holding the German's waist, he guided his cock over the blonde's entrance, forcing himself inside without warning. Ludwig cried out, tightening himself in an attempt to keep the Russian from moving around inside him.

Ivan moaned, wrapping his arms around Ludwig's chest as he buried himself inside him. "_Tight as always…mhmm.." _ he whispered, shivering in pleasure as he moved within him. His warm passage tightened around the Russian's cock, tempting him to thrust harder.

Ludwig's cock began to throb painfully, he hated to admit it, but the Russian was well endowed, and could bring him to climax at his will alone. But this time around, Ludwig's member wasn't receiving any attention, Ivan didn't stroke him once. To make matters worse, after every thrust the shackles buried into the German's wrists, wearing away at the milky skin underneath the metallic cuffs.

"Aaaannhhh…mmmmmhh…" Ludwig couldn't restrain his voice any longer, Ivan's dick began to pulsate within him, hitting his prostate and leaking warm pre-cum, it all felt so good.

Ivan reached around Ludwig, teasing his nipples lightly as his cock began to twitch inside the German's passage. His breathing grew heavier, his thrusts no longer rhythmic, desperately pushing himself within the blonde lustily.

"Aaaaaah!" Ivan let out a small cry as his cock pulsed once more, releasing his hot seed within Ludwig. Trying to catch his breath, he pulled out slowly, allowing his cum to dribble down the German's legs. Turning away formally, Ivan stepped away from the blonde to have a seat in the wicker chair he'd occupied earlier.

Ludwig turned to Ivan, his body shivering, painfully aroused. Ivan was a short distance away, reclining in the chair, stark naked and giving the blonde an expectant look.

Ludwig looked down, Prussia was suspended by the chains beneath him, but he'd been able to maneuver himself into somewhat of an upright position, staring at his brother weakly.

"_I think he wants you to-"_

"_My awesomeness w-will do it…for b-bruder..." _Prussia whispered, giving his brother a half attempt at his usual pervy, confident smile.

Closing his eyes, Ludwig moved his waist forward, allowing Prussia to take him in his mouth. His cock twitched violently at this, the wet inner cheek tight against his erection. Prussia began to suck slowly, taking his brother in fully, wincing as his head grazed the back of his throat, still raw from screaming earlier. His tongue teased the top of his brother's shaft, coating the blonde's cock with saliva.

"Mhmm…nnhnn…" Ludwig moaned, unable to form words as the Prussian sucked on his cock, not missing a beat as he toyed with his every nerve, bringing him closer to climax. His hips bucked on reflex, gasping at the wonderful feeling of thrusting in his brother's mouth.

"aaah…g-god…I c-can't…" Ludwig hissed, unable to resist the temptation to push his member to the back of Gilbert's throat.

Ivan stood up, making his way to the bound German, unbuckling the shackles on his wrists. He returned to his seat, watching intently.

Ludwig breathed heavily, cradling his hands behind his brother's ears, and began to pump within his mouth faster and faster. Gilbert moaned loudly as his brother moved, he'd secretly thought of doing lascivious things like this with his brother when he was alone, but in reality it was much more intense.

"Aaah…Ahn..Aaaaahh!" Ludwig cried, bucking forward once more, squirting cum in the back of his brother's throat. Gilbert swallowed it all, his tongue teasing Ludwig's head, thirsty for more. The last of it dribbled onto the Prussian's tongue, he drank it gratefully.

Ludwig breathed heavily, removing himself from his brother's mouth slowly. He turned away from Gilbert, now that he was satiated he could barely look him in the eye.

Ivan stood up, slowly making his way over to the pair. "_Quite_ an entertaining display, hmm?" He smiled, patting Ludwig on the back. "I've never seen two go so fiercely at each other so _willingly!_"

Ludwig buttoned his slacks without a word, feeling sickened with himself.

Ivan walked over to Prussia, releasing the shackles binding his wounded body, dropping him to the floor unceremoniously. "As agreed, I will release you from this room…_relatively_ unharmed." He shot him a twisted smirk, eyeing the Prussian's vast wounds and bloodied limbs gleefully.

Gilbert was only able to support himself on a leg and his arms, dragging himself towards the doorway with much difficulty. He struggled to mount the stairs, lifting his body with every step.

Ludwig turned away from the Russian, desperate to leave the horrid room. The least he could do for Gilbert was help him up the stairs. Following in his incapacitated brother's wake, he lifted the Prussian carefully, cradling his body against his chest. "We leave this hell together, bruder, for better or worse." Ludwig attempted a reassuring smile, guilt flooding him from his earlier actions.

Ascending the stairs quickly, all Ludwig could think of was seeking immediate medical attention for the Prussian. His wounds were deep, not to mention several broken bones that with any hope could be salvaged and mended in time.

_Gott only knows what that bastard did to my bruder…_

Opening the door, he was greeted by a blast of fresh air, bringing a heavy shiver to the two brothers. Ludwig walked out the door, running through the Russian's dormitory quickly, noticing Prussia's consciousness waning from exhaustion. Ludwig stopped in his tracks, a clammy sensation swathing over his entire body.

The door was barred shut, quadruple locked by titanium alloy bars. Ludwig rested Prussia on the floor briefly, attempting to break a lock or two with a brute shove from his shoulder. But it was no use, the door wouldn't budge for anything, no amount of physical force could defeat it.

"Hmm…I don't recall saying you could leave, Ludwig." A small voice laughed, echoing in the shadows from downstairs.

Ludwig cursed under his breath, turning around quickly, wincing at the frigid wind biting at his cheek. The temperature in the room had most definitely dipped lower, his entire body vibrating from the cold winds within the room.

Russia appeared at the doorway, smug as ever, twirling a U-trap pipe like a dancing baton. His eyes shone maliciously, eyeing the brothers with deep-seated hunger.

"T-then allow Prussia to leave! He needs medical attention at once, thanks to you!" Ludwig growled, kicking at the heavily secured door in blind rage.

"…so it seems." Ivan remarked flatly, glancing at Gilbert's lacerations and broken limbs. "Very well, Prussian. You may leave my domain. But do one favor for me before you leave."

"What do you want from me?" Prussia snarled, meeting the Russian's smile as he approached him, unlocking the door.

"See to it that Veneciano pays me a visit today." Ivan opened the door wider so the Prussian could crawl out the door. Gilbert made his way into the hallway, pausing in disbelief at the Russian's request.

"_**No!**_" Ludwig shouted, his heart torn at the possibility of what Ivan wanted with the sweet, innocent Italian. Prussia turned to Russia, then to Ludwig, his expression pained; he may have messed with Italia in the past, but his last intention would be to lead the kid into the dangerous custody of the deranged Russian. The mere thought was frightening.

Ivan smiled, turning to glare at Prussia. "I suggest you obey my command, Gilbert. Although it's quite obvious you enjoy taking several objects into your mouth, I'm sure one of them isn't a metal pipe. Bring me Italia, you can live out your miserable life, da?" Ivan slammed the door shut, locking it securely.

He faced Ludwig, his expression a dark shadow of the cheerful, childlike man he usually was. "The Italian will be here shortly. Make yourself scarce, go downstairs and wait for my return." He barked, pointing at the dark stairwell.

Ludwig descended the stairs, pleading that the darkness would swallow him up entirely. He was grateful to be alone for the time being, no one could see the tears trailing down his face. "Italia….I'm so…s-so sorry…" he cried quietly, proceeding into the room of chains, unable to open his eyes. He was helpless and alone, and was dragging his two comrades down with him.


	10. Permeable Comrades

Gilbert bit his lip to muffle cries of pain, his every step through the hall was met with an egregious amount of effort. His legs felt like iron weights, only serving a purpose of slowing him down. He belly-crawled his way through the hallway, sweat beading at his brow. He wasn't exactly sure what time frame the Russian bastard was giving him to send Italia to him, but since he kept Ludwig as collateral, in any case the Italian would have to show up, or else…

_I have to keep moving, for bruder's sake…_

_I have to protect Veneciano…but how?_

He growled in determination, heaving breaths of oxygen as he doubled up his crawling speed, hoping to gott that he could appease the Russian and save his brother.

Stopping at their dormitory, Prussia shouldered the door open, inwardly grateful that the Italian was napping at the breakfast table, unaware of his dilapidated state. Gilbert strained to meet the height of the table where Veneciano slept, grabbing Italia's cell phone with his teeth. Scooting himself into Ludwig's private quarters within the dormitory, Prussia allowed the door to close behind him, and he quickly began to dial the first number on the contact list. Time as always wasn't on his side, and the clock was ticking.

* * *

Stout apple trees swayed its branches slightly in the wind, sending the fruition of its labors cascading to the loamy ground. The sun shone irritatingly bright, humidity tempting sweat to snake its way down the man's pale skin. He wiped sweat off his face, grumbling about the uselessness of gardening and contemplating throwing a few apples he'd collected at his moody companion's head.

"Oy, we're _collecting_ apples for Arbor day, not dropping them so they can spoil, stupid git!" His moody companion shouted in the wind, steadying the ladder leaning against the thickened trunk of an apple tree so his younger friend didn't fall on his arse ungracefully.

"What the _fuck_ is Arbor day?" the younger man asked loudly, smirking as he "accidentally" dropped a few apples on his friend's head. "This is just as widely celebrated as Canadian Boxing Day in my lands, this is _such_ a waste of time!" he threw the last of the apples into the basket, descending the ladder.

"Stop the complaining, learn your own holidays, ya?" The older man scolded half-playfully. "I swear, I'm like a walkin' almanac for you, America." He smiled, ruffling the young one's hair as the blond locks blew back in the wind.

America shrugged the man off, straightening the glasses perched delicately on his nose. "Whatever Arthur, pshh…blaming a hero for forgetting a stupid holiday?" He lifted the basket of apples over a shoulder, proceeding towards his house.

He paused for a moment, lowering his basket to the ground clumsily, apples spilling over into a puddle of muddy soil.

"Bloody git!" England cursed, rushing forward to salvage whatever produce escaped the dirt.

America paid him no mind, pulling his ringing cell phone from his pocket, flipping it open. "America speaking."

His confident smile fell, a stony look upon his face. "Mhm."

England looked up out of curiosity, abandoning the spilled fruit to dust himself off. Alfred was never this serious over the phone, usually obnoxiously loud. This must've been an unusual call.

"Here's the thing, though. I really can't promise you any success though, considering who we're dealing with…well no shit, Sherlock, your enemy is absolutely bat fuck insane." Alfred snapped, running his fingers through his hair. "I'll do what I can, but remember, disobedience must be avoided at all costs."

England grew highly suspicious now, eavesdropping to his greatest ability, but to no avail. The person on the other end had a fast, angry manner of speaking and was very hard to comprehend.

"Look, just calm down and get yourself to a medic in the meantime, and stall sending Veneciano to that disturbed psychopath for as long as possible, and I'll do what I can." Alfred barked. "Remember, you owe me for this, bastard." He clicked the phone shut, striding pointedly towards the mansion with doubled pace and vigor.

"…What in all hell was the meaning of that?" Arthur shouted after Alfred, barely catching up with his hasty friend.

"That was Prussia, oddly enough." Alfred answered, proceeding into his private business quarters with Arthur. "He's in a bit of a bad spot, he's dealing with somewhat of a hostage situation."

England laughed aloud. "What's the idiot done now, have his vital regions been seized and captured?" he chuckled, following America into his office.

"No, he's made enemies with Ivan Braginski, and Russia's got Germany as collateral and Italia on the way." Alfred retorted.

Arthur demeanor grew gravely serious, taking a seat next to America solemnly. "What d'ya suppose we do about this, you _do _realize who we're dealing with, right?" He asked, feeling his insides contort at the mere thought of going toe to toe with the one man Russian demolition derby.

"Yep, I do, but we cannot ignore something as serious as this. Do _you _realize the impact on World Affairs would be disastrous if this turned out badly?" Alfred panicked, struggling to keep his cool by quickly downing a nearby can of Red White and Blue Bull Energy on his desk.

Arthur nodded, stepping out of the room quickly. Grabbing his own cell phone, he placed a few calls of his own, his hands shaking as the phone connected the call.

Time was of the essence, every second counted. For the sake of his country, it had to be done.

* * *

Ivan paced in anticipation, his wonderfully comforting scarf trailing in his wake. He was positively thrilled. His plan had taken so many twists and turns, and yet the result was still both pleasurable and unpredictable. It made him salivate to merely think about it. Ludwig was safely concealed in the basement room, and his next pawn, that Italian dunce was on his way. Ivan knew intrinsically that Prussia couldn't afford to disobey his orders, he'd never sacrifice his brother to protect the Italian.

Suddenly roused from his introspecting, his cellular phone vibrated within his trench coat pocket dully, demanding his complete attention. He flipped the phone open boredly, not bothering to check the ID of his caller. Like he needed to guess.

"Hello?"

"H-hello.."

"You called?"

"Y-yes, it seems you should tread carefully in your endeavors with Germany and Italy, America intends to stop you at all costs."

"I see."

"Y-yeah…now that I've done what you asked, I've given you plenty of time to prepare a defense for yourself. So please remove your troops from my lands, and don't lay a finger on Amer-!"

Ivan clicked the phone shut, giggling uncontrollably. Excitement swelled in his chest, he felt so alive, like never before. His little game was supposed to only antagonize the Axis powers, but to manage to pull in some Allied powers in one fell swoop into the melee, it was an ultimate victory for Russia.

Pocketing his phone, Ivan walked to the multi-lock enforced door, opening it a crack to peer down the hallway. No sign of Prussia nor Italy yet. But since Prussia was a tad disadvantaged, Ivan figured since he was in such high spirits, he'd give Gilbert decent time to send Veneciano.


	11. Danger And Progress

**America's Tactic Room:**

"_What in the hell…_" Alfred massaged his temples, absolutely frustrated. It was impossible to sleep tonight knowing just around the corner could be an attack on major powers of the world. He had absolutely no idea how he could possibly overtake Ivan with so much at stake. It was way too much for one hero to handle. Checking his nation's inventories obsessively, he couldn't hide the fact that his weaponry supply was insufficient to defeat the Russian at the moment. His economy was hurting, showing no signs of healing, and he had no money to bargain with China for missiles. In fact, as he was constantly reminded with a wagging finger, he owed him enough money already.

Arthur walked in, looking equally as exhausted, eyebrows knitted in a distraught state. He sat next to America, bringing with him an inventory of whatever weaponry supplies his nation contained, which wasn't anything impressive. He handed Alfred the clipboard, seeming to stare off into space.

"Come up with anything brilliant yet?" Alfred murmured, his voice sounding unusually tired. His glasses rested atop the bridge of his nose, slightly askew.

"I figured we try to engage Ivan diplomatically. Perhaps a negotiation is in order." Arthur's eyes bored into a stack of papers on America's desk, looking enormously uncomfortable in the cramped room. "As we're aware, Germany is in his custody and Italia is the second hostage Russia's requested."

"Mhmm." Alfred nodded, sipping a long-since cold cup of coffee to keep himself steady.

"So, we need to reason with that Russian brute. Perhaps…I don't know…giving him what he wants will end this problem. He'll release Germany eventually and the problem will solve itself." England rambled, clasping his hands together nervously.

"No, _Arthur_. That won't solve this! This is Ivan we're dealing with! He's doing this all for a _reason_!" Alfred shouted, slamming his fist on the table. His nerves were wearing thin as the clock seemed to tick, taunting them.

"Oh." England said quietly, backing off the topic. Alfred was jumpy enough, and had quite a temper of his own if provoked.

"We can't just sit on our asses waiting!" Alfred snapped.

"Well, we know this much. Ivan resides in his own dormitory with his three subordinates. He has a lower level, possibly where he could be keeping Ludwig, and if we could find a way to get into that room without Russia noticing, we can rescue Ludwig, and deal with the repercussions later." England suggested weakly. "I can bring up coordinates via my nation's tactics team in about 30 minutes flat."

"Good." Alfred replied, sighing heavily as England left the room once more. America could feel anxiety build in his stomach, something he often felt when there was deep seated conflict among his fellow nations. "We will attack as soon as the opportunity presents itself."

* * *

The darkness was almost maddening. Ludwig leaned against a wall, shivering in the cold basement room. It truly had the comfort of a torture chamber, the frigid air making breathing difficult, the choking aroma of chemicals and coagulated blood assaulting his nostrils. His every nerve was alight with fire, his heart racing despite his current solitary confinement.

_I disobeyed Ivan so recklessly…_

_How the hell can I save my brother and Italia…_

_If I even attempted to escape or fight back and failed…oh gott no…_

_They would both be executed…_

Ludwig held back a tempting urge to instigate a fight with the Russian. He must've been losing his mind at this point, he was crazy enough to want to fight the Russian. If by the slim chance he won, he could escape and get his brother and his young charge back without complications.

_...Impossible._

_I could never win against that psychotic bastard, especially trapped in here…_

The German searched for any small shedding of light, but on his way out, Ivan must've turned off that little dim light, and now it was impossible to find the switch. He slid against the wall to the cold floor, huddling his body close to the wall. His mind was racing and he was trapped, vulnerable to the Russian's wrath without contact to the outside world.

* * *

**Russian Control Room:**

The small control room sounded off with all sorts of little whirring and clicks and beeps, the sounds confirming his plan, assuring his success. Ivan admired the elaborate layout of the mechanical surveillance system, the intricate way it functioned. It reminded him much of himself actually. Cold and calculating, never considering moral aspects or risks. Doing whatever it takes to achieve a task at hand.

But boredom irked him. It'd been 3 hours since Prussia's release from his bondage, and he hadn't held his part of the bargain. He gave Gilbert plenty of time to bring Veneciano , and even tried to distract himself with his new electronic cameras and surveillance systems that had been installed that day, but even so, time was ticking. And a perfect plan required precise timing.

Ivan emerged from the control room in a huff, unlocking the multi-locked door of the Russian's dormitory. He was quite irritated with having to do his own bidding. He cursed the unreliable Prussian loudly, his boots thumping through the hallway as he began to walk.

* * *

_Mmmmmm…_

_So warm against my throat…_

_Sucking its juices…_

_Taking it deeper into my mouth…_

"PASTAAAA!" Veneciano awoke from his hunched over nap on the breakfast table, quite startled. He'd been watching morning cartoons as usual and must've dozed off. A car commercial had come on, the TV's volume blaring loudly, rousing him from a rather pleasing dream about his favorite Italian food, pasta.

He eyed the kitchen, which was oddly quiet for such a practical morning in the house. Looking around, he rose from his chair, walking to Doitsu-san's office. He figured if he pleaded and whined loud enough that Doitsu-san would allow him to cook some pasta fagioli for lunch. After all, the last time he was allowed to cook anything he only got sauce stains on the walls, cabinets and windows. Not too bad for a first time cook. Sorta.

Peering through the door, he saw the office chair was vacant. Curious, he pushed the door wide open, stepping inside. The Italian could detect a sharp smell in the air, something stale and quite foul. Veneciano's nose wrinkled, turning around to the desk, attempting to locate the source of the nasty odor.

"Nope, not in the garbage or under the desk…" the Italian murmured, perusing the room. Lowering himself on his hands and knees, he crawled around in a determined search. He found himself staring at a massive bookshelf, stocked with books written in gold-bordered German font. Lifting a book, he admired its leather bound form.

"Wow…Doitsuu has neat stuff!" He chirped, eyeing every book in slight interest. Leaving the blonde's literary collection, he turned once more to face the door, startled at the sight before him.

"Prussia-san!" Veneciano shouted in alarm, running to his side. The albino's body was crumpled against the wall, and barely conscious. Instinctively the Italian grabbed the Prussian's arm, applying two fingers to the man's wrist. He winced as his fingers grazed over bumpy lacerations on the Gilbert's wrist. A faint pulse thrummed against the pads of his fingers, relief flooding the Italian as he attempted to rouse Prussia.

"Wake up!" Veneciano persisted, shaking Gilbert's shoulders as he heard the man's breathing quicken. The man's eyes slowly opened, ruby eyes meeting his auburn. The Italian and the Prussian both gave an involuntary shiver, the office A/C must've switched on at some point, the warmth in the air gone from the room.

Gilbert coughed harshly, his vision focusing on the young Italian's hysterical face. The young man was crying, grateful that the Prussian was still alive. He couldn't blame Veneciano for crying, he had no idea whatsoever how he'd become so badly injured. And with any luck, Veneciano would never know, or have to experience it firsthand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine Veneciano, stop shaking me already!" Prussia barked, nudging away the Italian man. He breathed heavily, exhaling clouds of air. His bodys shivers became more pronounced, the A/C blasting frosty air was starting to affect his movements and breathing as well.

The Italian backed away, drying his tears on his navy blue shirt.

"Are you okay, Prussia-san?" Veneciano cried, offering a hand to help him up. "You look terrible!"

"Awesomeness is never terrible, idiot!" Prussia roared, attempting a catchphrase with a pained expression, his broken ribs made talking and moving a difficult and almost impossible feat. But feigning the pain would keep Italy's suspicion at bay, and that was important. There was no time for that kid's inane questions.

He took the Italians hand, biting hard on his lower lip as he failed to stand up, but managed to seat himself on Ludwig's rolling chair. Heaving in breaths, he faced the Italian with a serious expression.

"Italia, can you do me a favor and lock the front door please?" Prussia asked, urging the Italian to make himself useful. The last thing he needed was the door wide open for anyone to come in. He needed to buy time and secure the Italian in safekeeping, after all.

"Nooooo...I did it yesterday, _you _do it!" Italy protested stubbornly, stomping his little feet on the floor, his arms wrapped around his chest in an attempt to keep warm as another cold breeze came through.

Prussia swore at that moment that today was the closest day of any day that he was tempted to strangle the Italian.

"Italy, if you don't lock the door right now, I _swear_ I will make it so you won't be able to sit for a good few months." Prussia snarled, holding up the back of his palm threateningly.

The Italian scowled, turning on his heel to obey the albino man. Exiting the office, he made his way through the hallway, almost passing the kitchen. He stepped into the culinary area for a moment, mesmerized by the brightly colored figures on the screen. He stopped watching the television as he stared in curiosity at his every breath, where a cloud of air appeared and disappeared as the air became increasingly chilled.

Italy shrugged, leaving the kitchen to approach the front of the dorm. He locked the door quickly, turning the bolt with a *click.*

"Stupid Prussia-san, making me lock the door when _he's_ s'posed to…we don't even needa lock it anyway.." Italy muttered to himself moodily.

"You can't really blame Prussia-san though, he's absolutely right. You wouldn't want a stranger just _walking_ in, would you?"

Italy screamed, his knees buckling, his body crashing to the floor.

"…Because that…would be _dreadful_." A giggle sounded in the distance, a pipe clattering to the floor.

* * *

Prussia jolted at a loud noise from outside the office, fearing the worst. He spun the rolling chair around to face himself away from the office door, pressing his knees to his chest, attempting a fetal position against the chair's soft cushions. He wanted to hide himself so hopefully the Russian wouldn't spot him if he decided to check Ludwig's dormitory for anyone inside.

_Shit! SHIT! SHIT! He's here!_

_Calm down…I have to hide myself, survive for the moment…_

_Maybe he'll take Italia and leave peacefully…._

_If I can stay behind for awhile, perhaps I can help America and England to rescue bruder and Veneciano…_

Prussia stayed silent, pushing a wad of his shirt sleeve fabric into his mouth to muffle his breathing.

* * *

"Hmmm?" Ivan smirked, lifting the unconscious Italian over his shoulder effortlessly. He could've sworn he heard a small yelp just then as he'd attacked cute, little Veneciano. He proceeded into a small alcove, the door reading "Amt fur Ludwig."

"Ludwig's office, interesting…" the Russian mused, peering inside. The room was practical, orderly and stocked with hundreds of books and possessions of German culture and history. Ivan was tempted to have a look at the contents of his desk, but he held back. He would've loved to read Ludwig's nations deepest, darkest secrets, but that would have to be for another time. He was on a tight schedule, after all. He turned on his heel, exiting the office with Veneciano hanging limply over his shoulder.

Giving the room a final look around, Ivan left the German's dormitory, a trail of winter weather in his wake, shutting the door with a *click*.

* * *

His body pressed to the interior of the office chair, cramped into a fetal position, Prussia exhaled heavily, sweating bullets.


	12. Crossing the Line

AN: I wanna thank everyone's great reviews both on and FFNET, you guys inspired me to at least give this another try. Writer's block was killing mee xp Hopefully this chapter is a good start, a LOT of stuff is about to go down in the next few chapters! It'll all lead to a powerful conclusion, I promise :)

* * *

"Anyone home?" Ivan's cruel voice rung out, closing the basement door behind him with a rough slam. He proceeded down the poorly lit stairwell with a flashlight, the small Italian draped limply on his shoulder. "Since you were such an obedient, miserable subject, Ludwig, I've brought you a little present."

Ludwig looked up towards the source of the light, forced to squint as the bright beam remained on his shallow, pale face.

"_What have you done to Veneciano?" _Ludwig snarled, mustering strength to stand up, eyeing the unconscious body Ivan was toting like a heavy knapsack.

"Nothing that can't be fixed." Ivan smiled sweetly, lowering the Italian into a sitting position in front of the German. "He must awaken soon, though."

Ludwig kneeled to Veneciano's limp body, examining the young man's head. Sifting through the Italian's auburn hair, the German's fingers became damp with blood. "You…you monster…you _hit _him."Ludwig hissed, gritting his teeth in fury. "Wait….what do you mean he has to be awake soon…for what?"

Ivan laughed aloud, his voice ricocheting throughout the small space, hurting Ludwig's ears. He stared at Veneciano with a sickly sweet regard. "You'll see."

Veneciano stirred slowly in Ludwig's arms, images blurring around him slowly coming into focus. "D-doitsuu?"

Ludwig held him tightly to his chest, hushing him. He winced at the unsightly purple bruise on the young Italian's brow, a cruel reminder of the damage of the Russian's U-Trap pipe etched on his forehead.

Ivan turned to face the two of them. "Can you and Veneciano have a seat on this chair, please?" He flashed the Italian a trusting smile, gesturing to an old sofa that couldn't possibly be worse for wear.

Ludwig stood up hesitantly, helping Veneciano up slowly. He seemed to be alright, but the wound on his head worried the German all too much.

Ludwig's eyes remained locked with Ivan's as he sat on the sofa with the young man. His heart raced inside his chest, the suspense seemed to mount sky high as the Russian deviant sat solemnly, grinning at the two without a word.

"Italian, come over here and have a seat, Ludwig, don't move from your seat, or there will be consequences. I've changed my mind." Ivan murmured, patting his lap. Ludwig's eyes narrowed, disliking his young charge being anywhere but by his side. He sat upon Ivan obediently, suppressing a whimper of fear.

"What will you do to him?" Ludwig's eyes narrowed, a chill reverberating over his body as the Russian's murderous aura took full form.

"Shhh…That's a good boy." Ivan ignored the German, lowering one hand to rub the Italian's chest through his shirt. His gloved hand located Corsica, extending two fingers to pinch and rub his sensitive nipple through the fabric of his shirt. The Italian squirmed slightly, his eyes tightly shut.

"Say something Ivan!" Ludwig hissed, anxiety infecting his ability to think logically.

"I want you to watch…" Ivan paused, his hand dipping beneath the Italian's slacks, closing around the Italian's member, his thumb tracing the slit on top. _"…to watch me seduce your ally." _Veneciano bit his lip, his cheeks flushing as a low moan escaped through rosy lips.

"And _look,_ Ludwig…" Ivan sneered, removing his hands from the young man's pants, rubbing his moist fingers together in front of the blonde. "He's even wet, how _cute._"

"_**You monster…**_" Ludwig growled, every fiber in his body itching to rip out the Ruski's snide vocal cords. "He's so young, innocent, so n-"

"_Ahhhnn.."_ Veneciano's body leaned into Ivan's frame as the Russian's hand re entered the Italian's pants. Ivan began to pump the young man's heat in frequent strokes, feeling his own cock grow harder as the Italian's backside rubbed against the Ruski's crotch.

"Innocent? He certainly how to get what he wants…" Ivan smirked, pulling his hand away once more, shoving the Italian violently to the floor.

Ludwig let out an animalistic snarl, frozen in spot. He wanted nothing more than to break the Russian's stride of advantage in this devious game, but the threat of consequences rung clear in his mind, and he didn't want to think what would result if he dared to interrupt.

Ivan unbuckled his pants, seating himself on the chair once more. He beckoned Veneciano to approach him, ripping the clothes violently off his tender body, revealing his pulsating cock, slick with transculent pre cum. Gripping the Italian by his hips, he pulled him onto his lap, hovering his body over his large member.

"_Mhmmm…I want to violate you, Veneciano..do you know what this means for you?" _

"N-nn-no.."

"_I'm going to steal your innocence.."_ Ivan hissed, his voice dripping with lust as the tip of his member traced the outer rim of the Italian's tender entrance, warmth emanating from it. _"I want to draw my name from within you, in a sultry moan in that little voice of yours…"_ Ivan lowered a finger to sample the clear liquid seeping from the tip of his erection. His finger raised to Veneciano's quivering lips, parting them. He sucked on Ivan's finger eagerly, savoring the bitter flavor of the Russian's cock.

Ludwig watched in absolute shock, unable to process what Veneciano was doing. It was clear that under the Russian's suffocating influence, the young man was reacting in a way that only felt natural, needing to satisfy a newly awakened lust. Even the German himself couldn't help but watch the Italian squirm in desperation to release himself from such a lustful feeling, and feel excited as well. He wanted Ivan's hands off the young man, but Veneciano had never looked so vulnerable, or so _painfully _aroused. It was almost an entrancing sight.

Ivan's breathing hitched as he lowered the Italian onto his erect member, ignoring his cries of protest. He began to thrust within the Italian, his tight, slick entrance canvassing Ivan's cock greedily.

"You naïve little_ slut..."_ Ivan snarled, nails digging into Veneciano's soft skin, gripping his waist, forcing him to sheath his swollen heat. His cock began to throb harder as Ivan pounded into the teen's sensitive entrance.

"I bet you like it when I hit your sweet spot, don't you?" the Russian thrusted himself deeper. The Italian bit his lip to stifle his moans of shameful pleasure.

"_**Don't**_** you?**" Ivan retorted, turning Veneciano around to face him, wrapping his slender legs around the Russian's broad waist, his lanky arms around Ivan's neck. He didn't allow his member to enter the Italian just yet. The intense heat emanating from Ivan's cock seemed to tease the teen's entrance, tinged red and begging to be penetrated once more.

"Mhmm.." Veneciano murmured shyly, cheeks flushed a deep red. He wasn't used to feeling so impatient for release, all he could feel was an inner warmth vibrate within him, his member twitching painfully.

Ivan turned his attention to his other subject, the blonde seated on the couch, eyes lowered, focused on the Italian teen with a hungry gaze. His hand leered closely to the front of his pants, attempting to cover the steadily tightening fabric and a slowly developing wet spot.

The Russian shrugged the naked teen off his body, shoving him towards the sofa where he collided with his older ally. Ludwig sat up in alarm, trying to keep a safe distance from Veneciano.

"Since you seem to like to watch when I fuck your comrade senseless, why don't you finish off Veneciano." Ivan resolved with a smile. Veneciano flinched, a sudden touch of discomfort in his lustful eyes.

"W-what?" Ludwig stuttered, appalled at the comment. "You're sick, Braginski. I'm his mentor and ally, and I wouldn't even consider the possibility of any sexual contact!" he shouted, his voice a little louder than intended.

"Your pants say otherwise." Ivan giggled. "I want to see you leave your mark on him. Or _inside_ him actually. " he smirked darkly. "And that was an order, Ludwig."

"B-b…" Ludwig couldn't form words. His thoughts were jumbled, all he could focus on was Veneciano's eyes shut tightly, his breathing labored as he was fucked violently by the Communist country. His tiny voice whimpering with helplessness, but pleading for more and more. All he could see and hear was the Italian's voice quivering, lowering a delicate, once innocent hand to pleasure himself in front of the two men.

"S-stop that, Veneciano…" Ludwig murmured, scolding the young man. "Come here, please."

Veneciano shook his head in refusal, tears filling his eyes. He turned his body to face Ivan, slowly stroking himself, savoring every pulsing sensation from his ministrations.

"The rift that can result from two close allies as friends, forcibly bonded…so wonderfully distressing, da?" Ivan laughed cruelly, his eyes locking with the blonde's icy blues. "Regardless if you think of Veneciano as an ally or son, I've given you orders."

Ludwig turned to the Italian once more, a heavy shame mixing with a slowly awakening arousal. The teen was groaning in frustration, unable to bring himself to climax by his own hand. With little experience, it was no surprise.

"Italia…I can help.." Ludwig couldn't manage to utter the entire sentence. The intent of the comment disgusted him.

Veneciano turned to the blonde, biting his lip as he tried to hide his intense sexual craving. He couldn't think logically, nothing made sense anymore within the confines of the Ruski's basement that day.

Sensing Ivan's growing impatience, Ludwig grabbed Veneciano, pulling him onto his lap. He faced the Italian towards Ivan, unable to meet his gaze. He uttered in a subtle whisper.

"_I'm sorry for this, Italia."_

Ludwig raised a hand to delicately stroke the smooth skin on the teens shoulders, small kisses left on his back. His tongue trailed down the Italian's back, heated breath causing him to moan feebly, grinding against the rise in Ludwig's lap.

"_**Mhhnn…Italia.." **_Ludwig murmured lowly, feeling his loins stir from the friction. His hands found their way to his belt buckle, undoing the clasp clumsily, wiggling his muscular frame out of his slacks underneath the weight of the teen.

Veneciano lifted his backside up, whimpering as he felt an ache succumb to his member, a need to release was growing stronger. Ludwig gritted his teeth, taking hold of the Italian's waist, lowering him onto his twitching groin.

"Ahh…_ah_." Veneciano blurted, recoiling from the stretching within his passage. He began to move on his own accord, his tight entrance squeezing the blonde's member tenderly as he moved up and down with a seductive rhythm.

Ivan smiled intently, his eyes following the teen's hardening member as it bounced with every motion.

Ludwig began to push himself deeper into the Italian, he felt so starved for the teen's touch against his body, it began to encompass his mind. His thrusts became fierce, pumping his cock into Veneciano's tight hole as far as it would go.

"_Aaahnnn…D-doitsu…" _Veneciano pleaded in a small voice.

Ludwig stopped moving within the teen reluctantly, suddenly concerned. "Are…are you okay?"

"_Nooo..don't stop now, please finish…finish me.."_ The teen begged, grinding harder on the German's cock, his eyes squeezed shut.

The blonde shuddered from the intense heat building below his navel, entering the teen once more.

"_Aaaaaahnn, harder! Mhmm I feel so wet, Doitsu…" _Veneciano slurred, lowering two fingers to wipe the warm pre cum from his slit, sucking his fingers lustily.

Ludwig began to move within the teen at a varied pace, feeling himself reach his limits. "_I…I'm going to.." _he strained, feeling his cock pulse within the teen.

The blonde buried himself in the Italian once more, gripping the teen's waist as hard as he could. His body shuddered in amassed pleasure, pumping hot seed into the teen's tender entrance.

"_D-Doitsuuu!" _Veneciano moaned loudly, pushing Ludwig's cock as far as it could go as the rushing heat of the German's thick cum coated his insides. He tensed up, his inner walls squeezing the blonde's member, taking in every drop of seed greedily. His chest began to contract, spasms growing in power, it was impossible to hold out.

"_Ah! Doitsuu!" _Veneciano cried, arching his back, white liquid squirting from his erect member onto his chest and the German's legs underneath him.

The pair shuddered in exhaustion, remaining in an embrace for a moment to catch their breath.

Ivan had already redressed himself during the lascivious act, and seated in front of the two embracing countries, was smiling brightly.

"You two can put on quite the performance. It was quite amusing." Ivan commented, nodding in approval at the pair.

"A…amusing?" Ludwig murmured, separating himself slowly from the Italian, who seemed dazed from the exhausting activity. Cum dribbled from between Veneciano's legs, onto the sofa , pooling in a crevice in the cushions.

"Yes. _Amusing_." Ivan repeated. "Veneciano, I'm proud of you, you're so subservient, even when your _trusted_ superior and friend manipulates you into things you don't like, da?"

Veneciano whimpered, tears in his eyes.

"This was _your_ idea, who knows what would happen if I hadn't complied with your _sick_ requests!" Ludwig demanded angrily, feeling overwhelming guilt weigh on his conscience.

_Did I do this because of Ivan's intimidation?_

_Or did I use it as an excuse?_

…_What the hell is happening to me.._

Ivan chuckled, beckoning the Italian into his arms. The naked teen moved away from Ludwig, standing next to the Russian's relaxed form, reclined in the chair.

"Do you see what happens when you use power to your advantage, Ludwig?" Ivan rested a gloved hand within his trenchcoat pocket. "You really should try it. It's _exhilarating." _

Ludwig shut his eyes, balling his hands into fists, clutching them to his forehead. Tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving tiny wet circular impressions on the sofa. As his conscience returned to the present, logic followed suit. And the unbearable truth that he'd violated Veneciano, the one he'd sworn to protect through a bond of trust, was too much to bear. He didn't want to face Ivan, Veneciano, or anyone.

"Say, Veneciano. Do you want to know my favorite part of your little escapade with your older charge?" Ivan inquired.

The Italian nodded slowly at the Russian.

"When you said _*Finish me!*_ in the _cutest _little voice."

Veneciano nodded again, staring at the floor.

"And, do you want to know something about me?"

Veneciano slowly met Ivan's gaze.

"_**I never deny a request."**_

A loud bang reverberated throughout the basement room, stinging the blonde's ears from the harsh sound.

Ludwig looked up in alarm, unable to process what occurred. Unable to see, unable to breathe, unable to form words.

Ivan sat triumphantly upon his chair, fondling a bronze revolver against his chest.

Veneciano was slumped on the floor, his head a bloodied mess. Sputum mottled the floor, a suffocating odor of blood flooded the room.

Ivan only smiled.


End file.
